Wednesday, 11 September 2019

The Eternal Struggle Of Trying To Juggle

It's week two of the new school term. Week one is always fun. There's new shiny shoes! Shirts that are too big! Beaming smiles in photos taken outside front doors! Chats after school about teachers, school dinners and who they are sitting next to. It's great. An exciting way to start September. But then week two hits and it's back to normal with a bang. Shouting "GET YOUR SHOES ON!", being an eternal taxi driver from dance class to beavers to dentists to hastily picking up presents for weekend birthday parties. The parenting juggle starts and the struggle is real.

It's around this time of year when it dawns on me after eight years of being a Mum I still haven't quite got my sh*t together. That my husband and I are still never quite on the same page no matter how hard we try. And that bloody washing basket is eternally full. We have a computerised diary, the children have reward charts and I methodically add in each and every thing from the school calendar to our calendar. Yet someone always forgets to take toast money in and the other day I lost our house keys at 8:42am. They were found in a random trainer after much whisper swearing from me.

I often make it to the school gate with two minutes to spare and am in utter awe of those parents who seem to have their act together. Violin in one hand, packed lunch in the other. And if their daughter has a french plait I am GOBSMACKED as I struggle to get my little girls hair in a pony tail (adds 'learn french plait' to notes on phone). I can't quite tell if they are faking it till they are making it. Or if I am just a little bit of a disaster. Or perhaps it's a bit of both. This week my husband and I had to have a sit down chat about the washing machine. Or rather who the hell does the washing and "WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!". Oddly we both thought it was always us. Yet that god damn basket is still full.

Perhaps I just need to embrace that this is just what parenting is like for us. And quite possibly by the time I have wrapped my head around school routines, clubs, parties, homework, fancy dress days, trip money and so on. My children will be off to secondary school and I'll be in for another whole world of things to learn. Whilst trying to juggle work and those tricky teenage hormones (shudder). But when I look back at this time. When I am old and grey and Stephen and I only have to do two loads of washing a week. I will know in my heart this.

I tried my best. I wake up each morning thinking "TODAY I AM GOING TO BE A GREAT MUM!". And yeah sometimes I wasn't. Sometimes I was a crap Mum and a quite frankly lack lustre wife. But other times I am a fantastic Mum. Once every six weeks the washing basket is inexplicably empty. We get to school ten minutes early and I not only remember toast money but manage to shove a love note in their school bag too. The worry, the guilt, the feeling less than 100% is because I know my family deserve the very best. And I'll keep on trying to do that every day for the rest of my life.

My elsest is in Y6 and only now he has a friend knock for him in the mornings to walk together, does he get ready quicker than snails pace. Perhaps the answer is the fear of their friends seeing them in pants with bed head.

My little boy started school for the first time last week here in england. He is 5, he was supposed to go to reception but then we ended up moving from England to scotland (funnily enough I lived I maybole near AYR which you recently visited) and they do not have school until they are 5. We are back now and So my son missed out on making friendships and learning from the start of reception.(mum guilt is at an all time high this past year, I feel like I am always failing- cue crying for hours on end. I'm currently feeling depleted and broken) anyway, he started year 1 last week. He is doing amazing, reading and writing and he has always loved maths so the teachers are excited he is caught up from basically being homeschooled by myself (bewildering to me as I suck at maths especially) and I am feeling so overwhelmed and scared, is he getting on ok without me? Is he sitting alone or playing with others? Is he friendly and polite etc... so this is the first of many, many years of extra worrying and just like erin getting dressed as slow as a snail. My son decides having his breakfast for 45 minutes and then taking his pjs off to get dressed is utterly disgraceful as he is trying to watch Ryan's bloody toys review. I hope it gets better ����.